


Summer skin

by InYourDreamsBirdboy



Category: Batgirl (Comics), Batman (Comics), Batman and Robin (Comics)
Genre: Canon Divergence, I’ll add tags as it grows, Multi, Or not, Pre New52, Robin worms his way into Batgirl’s broken heart, Tim's been gone for too long, and he came back just in time to see the Possimpible becoming quite possible, they might be in the middle of some tempestuous romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-17
Updated: 2020-01-17
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:06:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22282345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InYourDreamsBirdboy/pseuds/InYourDreamsBirdboy
Summary: Stephanie Brown has been too many things in her life but loved.Would her first love fix that or would the new bird workship his way into her heart?
Relationships: Stephanie Brown/Damian Wayne, Stephanie Brown/Tim Drake
Comments: 2
Kudos: 18





	Summer skin

**Stephanie Brown**

Summer sucks in Gotham city. The air is hot and hard to breathe by day, and don't get me talkin' about how it feels at night! But like everything in this life, it also has a silver lining, right? Because something good had to rub off in these hideous streets and dark alleys. It ought to! Otherwise, why do people stay? Why wouldn't they run away as _he_ did?

I'm sitting by a corner booth, glaring at the outside view with an iced latte in hand. My eyes lost on the large crowd waiting in line under the burning sun, glistening like Swarovski crystal-covered figures as they hope to enter the building before their bodies meltdown.

I feel pity for them. The heat outside is almost unwearable; the keyword 'almost,' because somehow, besides the fact that one can practically cook an egg on the sidewalk, the rising temperatures lift the general mood of the peasants.

Yeah, I know, ' _peasants_.' I'm pretty aware of how it sounds. The long nights teaming up with Damian has taken a toll on me -not that I would admit it to him.

Labeling people helps us take our minds off the hell around us. Believe it or not, this line of work includes extra doses of pain seasoned with brooding bats and sulking birds. Being a vigilante comes with a full package of emo stuff and no sugar period. Even when I sported the _cursed_ suit, it weighted beyond anything I'd ever imagined-- Damnit! The sun does not rise upon a single day without me recalling my short-lived run as Robin the fourth as if it was a good one. Yuk! Training sucked, and the lack of it got me--

I feel my throat closing up on me right now. Would I've had a willy between my legs, things might have ended up differently, that's for sure. Or not. I don't think it has anything to do with gender. He's just an asshole. And I tried. Only Gods know how hard I tried to get on his sunny side. I did it! But the big B did not seem to like me much. And when it looked like he trusted me, well... it was a ruse to get Tim back or-- I don't know or don't wanna know anyway. I'm not as sick as to try and put myself in his armored boots to find the answer. Uh-uh. Look how it left the previous birds all scattered and scarred. The golden boy is a total mess from head to toes -ask Babs- and the wayward lunatic son is a lunatic! While Tim-- Tim-- Let's not talk about him. Not now. Not ever.

…

Lucky me, Fifth Wonder over here isn't _that_ bad. Gee, the heat is melting my brains too!

I flick my eyes to Damian. He's been in front of me, staring at my window absentminded for the longest I can remember. He looks calm, or at least as calm as he can get. It's weird… Reeeally weird. I kind of miss his old stares in annoyance at anything I could say or do, or the hissing sound of his high-pitched voice when he scolded me, and-- It's official, I've lost it! How on earth would I be missing the spitting image of Bruce Wayne in pocket-size if not?!

But--

He's not that bad. Scratch that, he's been rather good actually. I mean, he's making my life a real nightmare in a stalker _ish_ way -kind of like Clancy without the love-struck puppy eyes and the dramatic end. _Please, don't die on me_. The cryo-baby is what? Seventeen? On the verge of eighteen now! And for some odd reason –chalk it up to magic, what else?- he has grown to Bruce's stature in the last year, also earning _His_ resemblance in the process as well -which makes him even more like a pain in the ass for me; not to mention his brand-new features! His once childish face is now a perfect copy of a Michelangelo sculpture; jaw chiseled and nose so straight I could use it to draw a 40 angle.

Seriously, it's even disturbing how sublime his picture-perfect bone structure is! And to top it all, he looks older than me! Which certainly busts his ego to the skies and beyond. What do vegans eat for Christ's sake?!

Anyway, behind his manly –yet to be determined- appearance, _he_ is the very same kid that called me _Fatgirl_ with an eerie smirk. He's still that child. Not that I'm complaining; I will never be ready to face an adult Damian –let's not talk about a frigging pubescent Wayne! Would Barbara had told me we were gonna end up being partners after our first encounter, I would have laughed for ten minutes straight. The demon brat only worked with Nightwing and had no interest in spending _his_ precious little time along with an _outcast_ , but our future is –as always- in Bruce's hands. 

I take the opportunity to look at his blank face from the corner of my eyes. His mouth is pressed in a thin line, ever so slightly that I've to fight back a chuckle.

Damian is good at the expressionless game; at letting me do all the talking. Perhaps he was reluctant to hear what I had to say, but, over the years, his impromptu has transformed. Everyone has a theory about what ignited it. I brush 'em off because so many things have happened in the last few years… so many bad memories gathered that it is refreshing to be stuck with the only person that _remains_ more or less the same. Even though it means to put up with the little Lord Fauntleroy –now in bear size-, at least he doesn't pretend I'm fine.

After everything I've experienced, the bat clan -especially Batman- walks on eggshells around me, but Damian has no problem in pointing out my flaws. On the contrary, he enjoys it plenty. It's easier to cling to reality with him by my side, somewhat bothersome at first, but not that bad after all. Did he develop a soft spot for me too?

 _"Perks of being his first crush,"_ Dick said once, the words full of sarcasm, and I nudged him in the ribs then.

The stupid joke should have stopped when he went back to Blüdhaven, but it didn't. Tim took the baton and filled his shoes, making fun of Damian's false crush, and so other's joined him, but the kid never counterattacked them. Not a single time. That's when I realized that perhaps it wasn't a made-up story to irritate him. Maybe the bird had fallen for me.

Fuck. It was supposed to be the hottest day in history, then why am I freezing? Suddenly the temperature in the room feels like sub-zero. I can't enjoy the air conditioning, nor my beverage as a distant memory hits me like a two tons' truck. Words flood out of the steadfast 'hover-dam' mouth I have before I can even stop them, "There was a time when the radiations of the sun couldn't reach the earth, and it snowed in mid-June, did I ever tell you the story?"

Why am I mentioning this to him? Why can't I keep it for myself?

Damian denies, eyes still glued to the window or someone across the street, I don't care. I just want to blurt this memory out, the sooner, the better, 'cause it feels as if sharing it would erase it from my boisterous head. Please, get out of my mind, 

"Incredible as it sounds, people did relish the cold weather for a week before the sun was back again in full force." So bright and hot, and painful. "I was very young, younger than you are now, so it had to be the first year I became a crime fighter. Experts had no idea of how that happened, but Tim did." there goes my ghost, my loved one forever gone. My voice is still, "He told me about the fatal event and 'S-man' taking care of everything without elaborating much because... he never felt like to lengthen his stories and I--I miss the way he shortened them for me. Because he _only_ told them to _me_ , and I knew it."

_Did I?_

Now the fresh air in summer reminds me of that time in a terrible way for I pray for a second ice age once in a blue moon; for a familiar Robin telling me how it happened; for his beaming smile and the way he stopped mid-sentence thinking 'bout the consequences of his acts. He might've had a lot of secrets from me, but his face revealed anything I needed or wanted. And I miss him. I look with nostalgia at our date nights. I long for the secret training and the stolen kisses, the rush of adrenaline from breaking curfew and a bad guys score and--

"Tim?" the barista cries the name I'm wondering about, and my body stiffens. The people at the other side of the window begin to swirl before my eyes, and all I can hear are the sounds of heavy steps drag against wooden floors, the coffee machines brewing, the drowsy murmur of people, and my own heart beating at my ears.

 _Don't panic._ It's just a widespread name.

I turn to the beeline in the bar, ignoring Damian with one person in mind: Timothy Jackson Wayne-Drake. He had been missing for three years now; disappeared one night after patrol, and no one knew his whereabouts –or that's what they told me. I only read about him from time to time in the Gazette, and not Dick, nor Barbara had mentioned him. They know it's a difficult topic to bring up, especially after how things were before he left. Let alone the fact that Red Hood also vanished at the same time, which was suspicious given that he had tried to kill him countless times.

"Three doubles espresso and a grande of ice, is that correct, sir?"

That order… That's my Tim! My eyes jump from every black haired on the crowd, looking for the boy that caught my eye and my heart when I was fourteen. Breath stuck, burning deep in my lungs. The last time we talk was during my summer break from college. I was busy trying to figure out a case, not wanting to rely on him, and he just watched me with a grin on his face. I can tell he was proud of me, amused by my level of concentration, but pleased nonetheless. If only he had said to me that it would be our last night together.

"That's correct!" a familiar voice claims, and I finally see him.


End file.
